I had never had use for the word "extravagant", but I figured it was this.

I had been escorted through spiral stairs and narrow corridors of dark wood, over glass bridges and through ballrooms. I was now in a vast, round room with panes made out of shaved crystal all around it, their transparency providing a splendid view. It took me only thirty seconds to figure out it was the private bedroom of the king. The interior was the salmon orange stone that also made up the castle's exterior, dark wood, glass and beige fabrics and olive trees. I frowned as I saw his double bed, unmade. The bed frame was a beautiful, lacquered panel of a horizontally sliced piece of wood from a ginormous tree; you could see the age lines and even the bark in the outlines. There was a box of pralines on the bedside table, of which the king had eaten five. It looked a bit dusty, as if he'd eaten it one evening when something had happened that caused him to be unable to finish the rest for a few days. 

And something did seem to have happened; next to the bed was a metal stand with crystal bottles filled with liquids hanging off of it, with plastic tubes leading to syringes that were still covered in blood. I shrugged my shoulders and threw myself on the bed, that was enormous compared to human double beds, took the box of pralines and picked out a leaf-shaped one and started eating. I had never had a praline before, or really anything with sweetcrystal as it was too expensive, but they were sold sometimes in the market for an astronomical cost and I had always wondered what they tasted like... 

It was like sinking your teeth into a particularly vulgar part of heaven. The leaf one was filled with a thick paste that tasted of coffee, which I had actually tried, but much sweeter and richer. I had another, this time with a glittery, ruby-red powder on top. It was filled with a gooey liquid that tasted of a berry and liquor. I tried a vanilla white one, and that one was so sweet I groaned in pleasure.

I fell asleep for a couple of hours. Then, I had a couple more pralines. Suddenly, the double doors to the bedroom opened. I turned round and saw a guard come in, but didn't bother to get up or stop eating. The guard looked at me, one eyebrow raised as he tried to process the scene in front of him. Then, when he realised what he was actually seeing, his jaw dropped.

"What?" I said, putting a blue one in my mouth and chewed. "Don't think a human can eat?"

"The..." He cleared his throat. "The king will see you now."

I stood up and started walking to the door, bringing the box of pralines with me. The guard looked at it, opened his mouth as though he might say something, but then seemed to change his mind.

"Just follow the carved roses in the wall", the guard said, and pointed to the first two ones, carved out of a beautiful wood.

I walked, following the roses through several corridors and up several spiral staircases, all the while munching pralines. Suddenly, I stopped dead. I could hear something; a soft, melodic sound I didn't quite recognise. It was metallic, almost, yet clear. I kept following the roses, and the sound became more discernible, until I recognised it as a flute.

The person playing handled the instrument, their fingers and their breathing expertly, mastering each tone with perfection, the sounds dancing pleasantly in my ear. It was easy for the mind and soothing to the soul, and it suddenly struck me that my dead brother was in the castle somewhere, and I started to cry softly as I kept following the roses.

After Madara's death, after that first good cry I'd had when I ran away from Gedallion and the sword, I had been in a state of numbness for a long time, unable to cry. That had suddenly burst one day, and I had uncontrollably cried for hours on end. The same happened when my parents died. Now, when so many years had passed, I cried more delicately, yet I felt the flute clench at my heart.

Having recovered a little, I kept walking up the stairs, the tears still drying on my face creating a thin layer of salt on my cheeks, until I stood in front of a door with a rose on it, from which the sound of the flute came.

I entered without knocking.

The sight was something out of this world. I had entered the kaleidoscopic room with the painted crystal glass all over its round borders. They cast a heavenly rainbow of jelly colours on the floor. I realised the paintings weren't still but moving; pink cherry blossoms blooming and withering, blooming and withering, red tulips reaching towards a yellow and orange sun, a cobalt blue ocean with foamy waves, hiding treasures of swimming whales and dolphins and oysters with pastel pearls in their mouth that opened and closed, opened and closed, butterflies taking air... The kaleidoscopic pattern on the floor shifted along with the paintings, making the floor dance. It was mesmerising.

In the middle of the room stood the king, clad in a long, simple, light purple robe that was probably worth more than everything in my village combined, eyes closed as he played a beautiful silver-coloured flute. His half-long hair was held back in a short ponytail. He must've had time to wash it since he laid in his sick-bed as it was glistening almost as much as the flute. His skin was a white canvas, and the sun cast beautiful colours on it through the moving, painted glass.

I just stared. It was truly magical. The king seemed at one with the room, and for one brief moment, I forgot what this man had caused me, and other humans in the kingdom.

He played his final tone and let the melody die out. The glass figures moved slower and slower the more the melody died, and as soon as he stopped playing, they stopped moving altogether; the movement of the glass paintings were connected to the melody of the flute. The king slowly opened his eyes.

That was when he noticed me. He jerked back a little, then regained his stance. I suddenly missed my sword terribly; the guards had taken it before escorting me to the king's bedroom.

The king and I looked at each other, taking each other in. I was tall for a man, but he was tall for an elf. I probably reached only the lower part of his rib cage.

"Welcome", he said. I recognised his voice by now. "I knew you would come."

"You're oddly persuasive."

"You have a strange way to speak to royalty", he remarked.

"My parents died when I was eleven. They never had time to teach me the way to speak to a king. I'm improvising."

"You're doing a terrible job of it. I'm sorry about your parents. Can I have a praline?"

"No."

"Fine. Are you going to blame me for your parents' death?"

I looked at him quizzically. "They died from the crystal needle storm seven years ago. How is that your fault?"

The king looked genuinely surprised, as if unable to believe I wouldn't blame him.

"I see... Wait, it's my praline box! Why am I asking you? Give me that!"

"So, anyway", I said, choosing a dark chocolate one and popping it into my mouth, ignoring his command. He looked at me angrily. I chewed. "Why am I here?" I asked. "I know I want my brother's body back, but what's in it for you?" 

The king sighed, then started walking in a slow circle around me. I swallowed. Would he hurt me? "I have seen you fight." He stepped in behind me, bent down, put his chin on my shoulder. I jerked. The whole gesture was incredibly intimidating. I remembered what my mother had told me about the elven touch, but the king wasn't touching me; his chin lay on the coarse fabric of my robe. "I have seen what you and that sword of yours can do."

Wait, what? I swallowed, but refused to move a muscle.

"So?" I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. 

"Train my army."

I took a step forward to free myself of the king's chin and turned around.

"Are you out of your bloody mind?!"

The king smirked.

"That's my condition. That's my condition for you getting your brother back."

He took the last praline, put it into his mouth and started walking towards the door.

"You bastard", I said through gritted teeth.

"You can stop working so hard to be polite now", the king said. At the door with the rose, he put his hand, clad in several rings, on the doorframe and turned around. "Oh, and by the way..." I met his gaze. "I can see you have been crying. I'm glad you like my playing."

Oh, the nerve of him!